


More Than This

by bimmykimmy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Chance Meetings, First Kiss, M/M, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Police Officer Sawamura Daichi, Teacher Sugawara Koushi, Valentine's Day, White Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22728799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bimmykimmy/pseuds/bimmykimmy
Summary: Sugawara Koushi is an overworked, love-deprived elementary school teacher who can't seem to catch a break.Sawamura Daichi is a handsome, warm-hearted police officer who's just doing his job.The two don't really expect anything special in their lives; love and all that isn't something that's possible.One late Valentine's Day night might change all of that.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 14
Kudos: 204





	1. Valentine's Day

**Author's Note:**

> I've recently been rewatching Haikyuu and I fell back in love with all of these silly boys.  
> With the recent chapters in the manga, I was inspired to write Suga's experience from what I know from my ES teacher coworkers here in Japan.  
> I know I wrote this in English, so it's kinda awkward for them to say things like Sensei and what not but meh. I do what I want.  
> Anyways, ENJOY! part one of two!

Sugawara stands at the back of the class with his arms on his hips and a smile etched on his face. The tiny boy up front holds a clipboard that’s comically large in his little hands and reads off Monday’s duties. His worried eyes dart to Sugawara when he stumbles a little, but before he can panic too much, he remembers how to end his job. He bows politely and the class gives him a small applause, despite not really needing to do so. Sugawara always finds that endearing; how the young ones always want to cheer each other on even when it’s “culturally” inappropriate. He can’t count how many times they’ve applauded the principal after his speeches at assemblies and semester opening ceremonies, which results in the rest of the faculty smiling awkwardly and glancing Suga’s way.

That’s his class for ya.

He claps too, just once, and gains his students’ attentions as he makes his way back up to the front. He nods when the young boy hangs the clipboard just outside the classroom door and makes his way to his chair in the second row. “Thank you Shotarou. Did everyone get that? You all know who’s in charge of what for Monday? I don’t wanna have to remind you,” he gives them all a playful once over and he sees some students straighten in their tiny desks. They all respond energetically and he lets the student of the day conduct the greeting. “Happy Valentine’s Day, kiddos!” he grins at how all their eyes light up when he reaches behind his desk, having hidden it all day, and pulls out a bag of small chocolates. It isn’t even _remotely_ allowed, but he’s aware of any and all allergies, and of course he tells the kids to save them for later. If he gets any upset phone calls from parents later he’ll handle it, but for now he just relishes in the cheerful squeals of delight as he passes out the tiny sweets.

They all yell their thanks and do a polite bow before Sugawara tells them to grab their things. He warns them not to forget their books for Monday morning reading time. He has extras on his desk in the teacher’s office, just in case. He’s still fairly new in the workforce, but he knows kids, especially such young ones, well enough to count on their forgetfulness being consistent.

When everyone is bundled and ready to go, he sees them off at the front entrance of the school. He oversees them change out of their indoor shoes, some struggling to get their socked feet into their boots. He slides open the door and bends down a bit to give high fives to those who want them. Some students walk home alone in their small town, others are joined by older siblings, and some rush to their parents idling cars in the parking lot.

“No!” a shrill voice wails and Sugawara’s eyes widen, glancing out toward little Shotarou running away from his older, 6th grader brother. “I don’t wanna go! Sugawara-sensei!!!” he wails again and wriggles off his square bookbag which his annoyed brother is holding on to tightly. Shotarou sprints across the courtyard and before Sugawara can react, he collides with his legs, wrapping his arms around them tightly and pressing his tearful face into his black pants.

“I wanna stay with Sugawara-sensei! I don’t wanna leave,” he sobs into Suga’s legs, voice muffled and full of a terrible hurt only he seems to comprehend. “You’ll be lonely!!”

Sugawara’s heart clenches and he puts his warm hands on Shotarou’s small shoulders, easing him away gently before kneeling down to see eye to eye. Shotarou’s nose is runny and his eyes are rimmed red, tears pouring over and falling down his round, pink cheeks. He reaches forward and wipes a tear on his downy cheek with his thumb. “I’m not staying here either, Sho-chan. Sensei’s gotta go home too. But I’ll be back on Monday, and so will you. And then you can tell me all the fun things you do with Keisuke this weekend, all right?”

Keisuke walks up to them, lips pursed in annoyance as he holds his younger, dramatic brother’s backpack. Shotarou sniffles a little, rubbing his snotty nose with the back of his gloved hand. His tiny puckered lip pouts but after just a few more sniffles, he nods. “You won’t be lonely? It’s Valentine’s Day, Sensei!”

Suga smiles and lets out a small, airy laugh. “I’ll be okay.”

Shotarou wipes his eyes roughly with the heel of his palm and nods again. “Okay.”

“That’s my boy,” Sugawara says proudly and ruffles Shotarou’s hair. He stands up now, and with a gentle hand on Shotarou’s back, he leads him toward his brother who takes his hand. He waves them goodbye as the rest of the students from other grades filter out of the school as well. When all is quiet again, he lets his hand fall to his side and sighs. “Lonely, huh?” he mumbles to himself before turning back into the school. _Where on earth do kids learns these things?_

\----

The vice principal leaves before Sugawara does, and he hesitates at the door of the teacher’s office before doing so. “Well, I’ve got to get going. The wife awaits.” He pauses a moment. “I’ll leave locking up to you, then?” he asks, a bit of uncertainty on his voice. He glances over at Sugawara who’s hunched at his desk, typing away frantically with a cup of cold coffee next to him. “Please don’t stay too late. Work-life-balance, remember.”

Sugawara stops typing for a moment and smiles tiredly, but it’s as effervescent as ever. “No worries, sir. I’m almost done.”

It’s a lie, but he’s gotten good at telling little fibs here and there to appease the worries of others. His vice principal seems to accept it and with a nod he leaves the now entirely empty school. The hallways are dark; the days still not quite long enough for any professional to leave before sunset. But the sky outside is peppered with stars, clouds having blown away during the day making for a rather chilly night. The furnace unit in the wall near the front of the room hums for a while before clicking off, a timer having been set long ago.

Suga works late and before he realizes it, the automatic lights shift off in the office due to the inactivity. He blinks a bit, now realizing how dry his eyes are from staring at his screen for so long, and he groans. He tilts back in his chair, stretching his arms up and groaning again when his shoulders make a satisfying pop. To his side, his phone buzzes and as much as he _really_ wants to get ahead on his work, he can’t stop himself from checking it.

 **Azumane Asashi:** There’s going to be a meteor shower!! Should start around 9:45.

Sugawara remembers vaguely hearing something about it in the morning when his TV turned on, acting as his alarm clock. The talk show usually has some sort of news segment which he only half listens to as he zombie walks into the bathroom. He checks the time now, 9:30 sharp. He figures maybe a little light show in the night sky can clear his fried brain a little. And some fresh air never did anyone harm. He sends a quick thank you message back to his friend.

 **Sugawara Koushi:** I'll go check it out!! Thanks bud♡♡

He then places his phone down, ignoring the second text that pops up just as he locks the screen.

He then slips out of the teacher’s office, sliding the door shut behind him as he makes his way down the hallway. He climbs up three stories and zips his athletic jacket up to his chin. “They always keep these hallways so damn cold,” he mumbles without any real fervor. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and pushes the door to the roof open with his hip. The night air is brisk, shocking almost, and he can see his breath instantly billow from his mouth. He likes the look of it, always has, and he tilts his head up to the ebony sky and curls his lips, letting his breath out in a slow puff. He watches it dance and flit upward like smoke, barely able to make it out in the dim lights filtering up from the parking lot below.

Sugawara leans up against the chain link fence, staring up at the sky and feeling a sense of calm take over him. Work-life-balance. That’s what they always say, like some kind of sick mantra. Of course, it’s all lip service if you ask him. The amount of times he’s had to stay late is unthinkable. Not to mention his social life has basically gone to the pits. He doesn’t see anyone outside of work acquaintances. His coworkers are nice, of course, but one does start feeling a sense of mundane when the only interaction one has is strictly professional. The only time it goes beyond that is at those basically mandatory _enkai_ after big school events. Even then he really doesn’t see it as sociable; it’s merely just an extension of his work duties to sit, drink, and karaoke with his superiors. He’s ashamed at how nice it feels to have some of his coworkers pat and touch his silver hair when their faces are flushed with alcohol; eyes glazed and unfocused. He doesn’t get touched so much nowadays; something he didn’t realize he’d missed since high school and university.

When was the last time he’s been on an actual date, anyway? Hell, even hooking up is a thing of the past due to scheduling conflicts or last minute responsibilities shoved onto him by his superiors. Just last week he had to decline an offer to attend a mixer with Asahi—though judging from Asahi’s report, it was mostly a bust anyways. He’s long since deleted the dating app on his phone.

He sighs again and shivers a bit, finally starting to feel some of that cold seep through his light jacket. Just a few more minutes, he figures, and then he can enjoy the nice interstellar light show and head back inside. And forget all about this weird, introspective reverie he’s fallen into suddenly. Staring at space can do that to a person.

Unfortunately, the meteor shower still doesn’t appear even after 25 minutes. Sugawara feels his whole body shiver furiously and he jumps up and down, trying to will his blood to keep flowing. He pats his pocket to check the time only to remember that his phone is downstairs in the teacher’s office next to his overworked laptop. He sighs, shoulders slumping. “Oh well,” he says to himself and turns on his heel to head back inside.

Except, he can’t.

His hand is on the door handle and he tugs.

It doesn’t budge.

“Shit.”

He tugs again and like before, the door stubbornly does not move. The metal against his palm stings and he pulls away, shoving his fist back in his pockets and hunches his shoulders. He bounces on his heels a little, grumbling. “Great. Just lovely.”

To add insult to injury, he looks up at the sky now and sees a front of clouds moving in. His lips pucker in a pout and he narrows his gaze.

Sugawara doesn’t know how much time has passed, he’s too cold to keep track. He paces the rooftop, jumping up and down, and doing high knees among other routines he recalls from his high school volleyball days to keep himself warm. He’s kicking himself internally for not grabbing his heavier jacket before coming out. But of course, he hadn’t necessarily _planned_ on being out here for so long.

He groans pathetically and stops pacing, leaning back against the fence and hugging himself firmly. He knows he should probably be more panicked than he is, but for some reason he just can’t seem to find the energy. Something like this might as well happen to him. He sighs dejectedly and slips down against the fence; the fabric of his jacket catches a little as he does so. He sits on the cold, concrete ground and holds his knees close to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs in a tight hug.

“Is this my life?!” he suddenly yells into the cold air. His breath crystallizes instantly, billowing upward. “Is this this all there is, huh?!” He’s angry now, frustrated; not at being locked out on a cold night, but with…everything. He knows being a teacher isn’t necessarily the most rewarding career, but he’s just so, so tired. He wants—something. He doesn’t know what. Something new. A change. Anything.

Is he doomed to spend the rest of his youthful years slaving day in and day out, wiping snotty noses, soothing roughhoused bumps and bruises, teaching kanji stroke order to kids who still don’t know the difference between left and right? He loves his students. That much won’t ever change. But he’s 27. He’s 27 and working a job with no overtime pay. He’s 27 and rarely sees his friends—well, _friend_. He’s 27 and hasn’t been laid in over a year. He’s 27 and it’s Valentine’s Day and he’s trapped on his workplace’s rooftop and he’s…

What was it that little Shotarou said?

Lonely.

With nothing else left to do but wait and hope for a miracle. He glances one last time at the partly cloudy night sky, still no sign of pretty lights darting across the black expanse. He shrugs and puts his head down on his knees, huddling for warmth and feeling his warm breath filter up against his face.

Suga isn’t quite nodding off but his consciousness is really quite fuzzy when he hears the crinkling of wheels against the parking lot pavement. He perks up, a bit groggy, and he can see red lights flickering into the reflective bits of metal from the exhaust fans on the rooftop. He stands up and turns around quickly, hands gripping the fence. He sees a patrol car park and an officer step out of it. He’s got broad shoulders and short hair. Suga watches him slip on a black beanie and then immediately glance up toward the roof, which for some reason Sugawara darts away from view; feeling like a kid in trouble.

He turns around now, back against the fence with arms folded across his chest. He waits and soon enough the door leading to inside the building opens. The officer’s liquid brown eyes are wide; his own crystallizing breath billowing out of his slightly parted lips as he leans forward, hand still on the door.

“We received a call about a possible break in at the elementary school,” he explains calmly, though his expression seems a bit…surprised. As if he hadn’t expected to find something as harmless looking as a shivering wreck atop the roof. “You…you’re a teacher, aren’t you?”

It isn’t surprising he knows that. They always put photos of the faculty in the newspaper every school year. Sugawara can’t help but notice the officer’s strong build, tight against his uniform and unzipped jacket, and he swallows dryly. His lips feel chapped. “Uh, yeah,” he laughs sheepishly. “Sorry. I sort of locked myself out here. I guess someone in the neighborhood saw me pacing.”

“What were you doing up here anyway, Sensei?”

“Ah, Sugawara.” He finds himself explaining without really knowing why—perhaps it’s the instinct to be professional around an officer. Yeah, that must be it. “Sugawara Koushi.”

“Sugawara-sensei,” the officer corrects himself with a small smile that suddenly makes Suga feel really, rather warm. “Sawamura Daichi,” he gives a slight bow, though it’s awkward with his hand still propping the door open.

“I was, uh, trying to see the meteor shower.”

Officer Sawamura’s expression pinches a little, brows tightening as he tilts his head in confusion. “That’s not until tomorrow,” he says plainly.

And that does it.

Sugawara practically deflates. As if all tension that had been store upside of him releases at once, he feels his legs give out and he falls to his knees in one pathetic slump. The startled reaction from the officer would be cute, if not for what immediately happens next.

“Oi, hey!” he says as he darts over to Sugawara, kneeling down with a strong hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

And with a pronounced click. The door behind him shuts.

The two men’s eyes meet and they stare at each other for a solid 30 seconds. Sawamura is the first to look away, expression darkening in realization of what he’s just done. His eyes narrow and he stares down at the concrete ground. He makes a soft humming noise as if owning up to his giant mistake.

“Welcome to my humble abode, officer,” Sugawara says with a smile—of all things. Sure, perhaps a stronger person wouldn’t find this situation something to laugh at. But he’s had enough of wallowing for one night.

\--

Thankfully, unlike Suga, Officer Sawamura has his phone with him as well as his radio hooked to his shoulder. He calls for someone to come help them. Now all they can do is wait. Sit and wait in the freezing cold.

“So, you’re a teacher?” Sawamura says, and it’s a boring topic, but Suga appreciates the effort to fill the awkward silence.

“Yessir,” he responds. “In charge of the 2nd graders this year.”

“I have a cousin who’s around that age! He’s… a lot. A handful to say the least.”

“Oh, believe me. My hands are plenty full. They’re little demons sometimes.”

Sawamura laughs at that, and it’s nice to hear—soft and uplifting, like an auditory version of a hug. Suga passively wonders what hugging such a strong, sexy man would feel like after so long. He startles himself with this thought and blinks in surprise; a slight warmth blooming on his face. He looks away quickly and clears his throat, ridding himself of such a childish thought. _This is an officer of the law_ , he scorns himself internally, _be more respectful_. The sudden, suffocating sense of loneliness on an otherwise made-up holiday is no excuse for forgetting one’s place.

“I admire teachers,” Sawamura muses. His gaze is focused upward at the cloudy sky, seemingly unfazed by Sugawara’s sudden tenseness. “You’ve got such a heavy burden and I feel like you rarely get rewarded.”

Suga laughs a little, because what else can he do? It’s interesting how easily this guy is talking, as if they were old friends catching up. It isn’t necessarily a bad feeling, though, Suga finds himself thinking this as he shrugs. “Yeah, well, the same can be said for police officers.”

Sawamura makes a small hum of assent, nodding thoughtfully as they sit there in silence for a bit longer. “You must have some rotten luck to get trapped up here on Valentine’s Day,” he eventually says.

Sugawara snorts because that is the _biggest_ understatement. He’s petty though, shackles rising in defense as he says, “You’re one to talk!” He notices the soft shade of pink that blooms over the officer’s high cheek bones. Soon enough, he also notices how Sawamura sits just a bit closer to him as they wait for his colleague to come set them free. “Still, you have a point,” he relents. He tries not to sound as pathetic as he feels, but he does a poor job of it. Sawamura hums in question as a response. Suga shamefully thinks how cute it is that he can communicate with just caveman noises. “A day like today, someone my age should have plans right?” he laughs again, this time knowing it sounds pathetic. He hugs his knees in to his chest again, staring forward.

“Valentine’s Day isn’t all that important,” Sawamura says after a short pause. Suga glances to him, lips still in a small pout at his own lame self. The officer doesn’t seem put off by it, however, and he gives Suga that same warm smile which seems to be his default. “If you ask me, I’d much rather stay at home and watch a movie by myself and eat as much _konbini_ food as I can. Then fart myself to sleep.”

Suga blinks for a moment, processing his words and awkward attempt at a joke. He does laugh though, and it feels nice, and almost therapeutic. He feels himself relax, chest filling with light air that calms his nerves and allows him to just forget all that unnecessary crap he’d been relentlessly mulling over earlier in the hour. Feeling a little punchy, he bumps his shoulders against Sawamura who chuckles in return. “That sure sounds like heaven to me,” Suga says over their mutual laughter. “So, what? Work cancelled those intimate plans of yours?”

Sawamura clicks his tongue in amusement and tilts his head up, watching the clouds slowly glide across the dark sky. “Nah. I’m filling in for my partner, actually. Her girlfriend wanted to celebrate properly since she works basically every holiday, and far be it from me to get in the way of love. Besides, it’s not like I have anyone waiting for me at home anyways.”

“How noble,” Suga grins. Sawamura laughs again, and Suga has the passing thought that he very much likes the way it sounds, and would like to hear it more if he can. He opens his mouth again, breathing in; the next words on the tip of his tongue. But he catches himself, pinning his lips shut and widening his eyes. _So you’re single?_ rings in his head like a mysterious echo. His heart clenches and leaps in his chest and he feels very much like he just dodged the fastest, most dangerous bullet ever. How is it that those words almost slipped out of him so easily? Sure, Sugawara is not necessarily the shy type, but he’d never had the audacity to be as direct as that.

This time, Sawamura seems to notice his hesitation and glances over at him with a curious look. Sugawara avoids his gaze and clears his throat, shifting a bit. “Damn. It’s cold, isn’t it?!”

“Well, it’s February and this _is_ the Tohoku region…” Sawamura replies unhelpfully. Before Suga even has a sassy retort in mind, his eyes widen once more. Sawamura shrugs his jacket off and in one swift movement, drapes it over his quivering shoulders. The instant warmth is like a breath of fresh air and Suga feels his entire body melt into it instintually. The coat curiously smells like a bonfire.

“S-sorry,” his voice somehow makes it out of him. “Thanks.”

“It’s my duty as a public servant,” is Sawamura’s professional response but the way his gaze drops and he awkwardly scratches at his pink cheek seem to say a bit more than professionalism.

Suga slips his arms into the sleeves and holds the fabic tight to his chest. He hides his own embarrassed smile under the high collar.

It isn’t long before they both hear another car pull into the parking lot below.

\--

Sugawara picks up his things from the teacher’s room, slapping his laptop shut out of spite. The two officers are talking outside by the time Suga locks up the school and joins them with his bag hanging diagonally across his chest.

“I’ve gotta finish the rest of my patrol, so,” the other officer’s voice trails off boredly. After a moment he bows politely and waves to Sawamura when he makes his leave.

The two are left standing in the cold again, but this time with a lot less feeling of entrapment.

Sugawara hands the jacket back. He then lifts his hand to his bag strap, picking at a stray thread. “Sorry for the trouble,” he says with downcast eyes. His sense of humility finally catches up with him despite the otherwise light nature their acquaintanceship has been thus far. The embarrassment of locking himself atop of the roof hits him a bit harder than he thinks it should—possibly because of his sense of pride, but most likely because of his quite sudden attraction to the cute officer named Sawamura Daichi.

“No trouble at all,” Sawamura responds gleefully, and Suga believes it’s real. Just from the short while he’s spoken with the officer, he gets the feeling he’s the type to be brutally honest with his emotions. Something about that is refreshing and oh-so welcomed. Sawamura puts his hands on his hips and turns toward him. “I actually expected my shift to be boring, so this was a nice distraction.”

“I’m happy to help then!” Suga says with a cheeky grin, feeling like his old self again. It’s funny how a complete stranger has the ability to cheer him up so easily. Maybe it’s the introspection from before affecting him and making him sappy, but Sugawara finds him really, really nice to be around. And of course, he isn’t blind, he _has eyes_ , he can see how square Sawamura’s jaw is and how nice his ass looks in his tightly fitted uniform slacks. He shakes his head, shutting his eyes to stop himself from looking when Sawamura leans into his patrol car to grab something.

“I know I said I wasn’t really one to care about today or anything,” he says with a short strain of his voice as he reaches over and grabs something that had fallen beneath his seat. Sugawara opens his eyes just in time to see Sawamura offer something over. He blinks down at the small box of cheap Meiji brand chocolates, a yellow discount sticker tacked over one of the prettily rendered cartoon mascots on the front. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Sensei.”

Sugawara stares in disbelief, his mind a fuzzy haze of rapidly sputtering white noise like an old television. “W-what…”

“I bought them on a whim,” Sawamura explains with a shrug. He looks away, playing it cool despite the telling shade of red his cheeks and ears slowly stain. “I dunno. Maybe I was hoping for a miracle? Uh, a-any way, I’m not really a fan of sweets. More of a savory guy, myself.” He hands the box over, almost a bit too roughly.

Sugawara opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing but air and a pathetic noise escapes him as he gingerly takes the box of chocolates from him. A weird feeling takes over his whole body, a tingling, giddy feeling; the likes of which he hasn’t felt in years. A small shiver thrills up his spine and its all he can do to look up again into those welcoming, friendly, brown eyes.

“You have yourself a good night, Sugawara,” Sawamura says with a broad smile, one that crinkles the corners of his eyes. He bows politely and just before he turns back again to his car he adds with a grin that looks cheekier and smugger than anything he’s expressed thus far. It takes Suga off guard, startling a bit. “Try staying off rooftops, kay?”

Sugawara gapes like a damn fish out of water and his face heats up something fierce. His sense of pride allows him to simply let out a wordless noise of offense which is responded with a light, warm laugh from Sawamura.

“Good night,” he says again and slips into his car. With one last look through the window and a polite nod of his head, the officer named Sawamura Daichi pulls away. The red lights of his patrol car flicker as he turns onto the main road.

Sugawara stands there, feeling as if he’d just run a marathon. The chocolates in his hands weigh more than anything he’s ever held and it’s more than he can take. He drops down into a squat, hiding his face in his arms and letting out a long, pathetic drawl.

“I should’ve asked for his phone number,” he laments quietly, barely a whisper. He stands up again, recollecting himself because he’s an _adult_ dammit. An adult who spent the whole night locked on a rooftop with someone who very well might be the sexiest, manliest guy he’s ever met. He looks down at the discount chocolates and finds himself smiling giddily. He finally checks his phone then, fishing it out of his bag before he makes his way to his car.

 **Azumane Asahi:** Oh, whoops. Sorry it's not tonight! 

**Azumane Asahi:** uhh Suga?

 **Azumane Asahi** : please tell me you didnt go up onto the roof. You know they lock it after hours!!!

 **Azumane Asahi:** You're not on the roof. You're home, safe, cuddling with your soft blankets and watching YouTube. This, I know.

**4 missed calls from Azumane Asahi.**

As far as Valentine’s Days go, Sugawara can say with confidence that this is one he won’t so easily forget.


	2. White Day

Beer has always tasted too sour for Suga’s liking, but tonight he makes an exception. There’s cause for celebration, if the two making googly eyes at each other across the table from him is any indication.

Suga can’t be bitter about it though. He knows exactly how long Asahi pined after the rowdy ball of lightning named Nishinoya Yuu. He’s been their acquaintance for quite some time, but neither of them seemed to have the guts to make the first move. Suga is pretty sure the three of them all thought it was a hopeless endeavor. And despite Asahi’s best efforts to ignore his feelings, his little crush simply harbored and harbored until there was nothing else he could do but act upon it.

Apparently, it was a successful act.

Nishinoya puts his hand over Asahi’s and squeezes fondly. Suga blinks back into the present, having faded partway through his thrilling retelling of the movie they’d just seen together on their 10th official date; apparently they are counting. “The CGI explosions were _amazing_! I really felt it in my chest!” he uses his free hand to slap a palm to his pecs. He then jabs a thumb over in Asahi’s direction. “This guy was terrified half-way through, though. You’d think someone with such a sexy, tough exterior would have a little more backbone.” He laughs jovially. His cheeks are flushed pink with alcohol and as the night goes on, his increasingly close proximity to Asahi proves more and more how serious they already are. “But I guess that’s what I love about my big guy,” Noya adds with a loud kiss on Asahi’s cheek which ultimately causes Asahi to short circuit.

Just how _much_ has Suga missed because of his job?

It feels like just yesterday Asahi was texting him about a mixer or some other kind of boring attempt at finding someone to date. And now he’s gone ahead and snagged a boyfriend of his own. _And_ they’re in love apparently!

“You two seem to be having fun, then,” Sugawara responds with a sweet smile, and it’s real. Because he’s happy for his best friend; how on earth can he not be? Looking at these two, they ooze giddiness. He catches Asahi’s worried glance, however, because his giant glass-hearted friend is all but psychic and years of skittishness has a given him a wicked talent of reading microexpressions, subconsciously made or not. Suga gives him his best reassuring nod before taking another swig of his dissatisfying drink.

“S-so, Suga! How’s work been?” Asahi asks quietly in a graceless attempt to change the topic, his face is a plethora of reds with Nishinoya now hanging on his arm, but he does a fine job at playing it cool—well, a good a job as he’s able to.

Sugawara nods again, taking his time to decide how much truth he wants to spill. Work is…well, work. It’s the same as always. He stays real late, arrives real early, soothes the woes of 2nd graders as well as their overly worried parents; all the while appeasing his superiors whims. Same old same old. Nothing new, nothing exciting.

But then again, there was that _one_ night.

Valentine’s Day.

He’d responded to Asahi’s text messages saying he’d indeed locked himself up on that roof. But before his nervous wreck of a friend could have an aneurysm he assured him he’d been rescued; safe and sound in his studio apartment. He didn’t mention any other superfluous details, especially “details” which include Sugawara’s worst airheaded mistake in his entire young adult life.

At length, Sugawara can’t seem to get the officer named Sawamura Daichi out of his head. And how he, in hindsight, had undoubtedly been flirting with Sugawara up on that freezing cold rooftop. He really, really cannot stop thinking about it. Not to mention regretting not doing anything about it.

No amount of unpaid overtime work changes this fact apparently. And apparently, he’s taken too long to respond which results in Asahi leaning forward with worry written on his too handsome for his own good face.

“W-we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he says nervously. “I know it’s been a rough few months.”

“Did you do anything for Valentine’s?” Noya chimes in unhelpfully with a characteristically clueless expression on his smiling face; eyes sharp and bright like a fox. Asahi makes a choked noise next to him which he either doesn’t notice or simply chooses to ignore. Suga is uncertain which is worse.

“Why do you ask?” Sugawara suddenly finds himself suspicious, despite not really having any reason to be. Something about the way Nishinoya’s pointed gaze sets him on edge—not in a bad way. It’s more of like contagious, volatile energy.

“Asahi’s told me tales of unsuccessful romance,” he glances toward Asahi whose lips are pinned tightly shut and astutely avoiding anyone’s gaze. He seems close to imploding as he slightly tugs on Noya’s sleeve in a futile attempt to silence him. “If it can happen for this big oaf, it can happen for anyone! Hang in there, champ,” Noya laughs self-assuredly and wraps his arms tighter around Asahi’s. He leans in, practically cuddling his face against Asahi’s sweater with not a care in the world.

Sugawara makes a face, and turns a glare toward Asahi; one that’s dark enough that no amount of eye-contact avoidance can stop him from feeling it. He knows very well Nishinoya’s impulsive personality and how it is exponentially more explosive when he’s giddy—which he undoubtedly is now, if not for the foreseeable future. But Suga can’t find it in himself to be sympathetic. “Is that so? I wasn’t aware my lack of love life was such _compelling_ idle talk between my friends.” He hears Asahi make a small, pathetic noise. Of course, deep down, Sugawara is not necessarily angry, since it’s highly unlikely that Asahi told Nishinoya these things as mere gossip. Knowing his delicate friend, he certainly brought it up out of concern. Big ol’ softie; albeit a bit nosy, but his heart is in the right place.

Nevertheless, Suga’s feeling punchy again—as he is wont to be—and he holds his nose high and puffs his chest a little. He speaks before his better judgement has a chance to shut himself up. “If you _must_ know, I received chocolates on Valentine’s Day, thank you very much.” He already feels foolish, but when Sugawara Koushi starts something, he commits. He holds himself high, shoulders back.

Noya’s laugh flits into the humid air of the _izakaya_ with ease. He slaps his hand on the sticky wooden table with excitement. “What the hell, really?! Wait. It wasn’t from one of your students was it? Ohh, how cute is _that?_ ”

“No,” Suga refutes strictly, maintaining his sense of elevated pride; as unwarranted as it is. “They were from an adult. A _handsome_ adult. A handsome adult with a respectable job and—and,” he doesn’t have anything else to add because that’s the extent of his knowledge, so instead he simply grabs his beer and downs the remainder of it in a few, large gulps. He smacks his lips, gasping with fake delight and cracks the glass down on the table with fervor. “Spent practically the whole night with him!” he adds. It’s not _really_ a lie. It’s just not the whole truth either.

Asahi, as shocked as he is, smiles wide and it instantly makes a surge of guilt boil in Sugawara’s stomach. “That’s great, Suga,” he says with warm eyes.

“So, you gonna return the favor?!” Nishinoya interrupts Asahi, excitement still riding high. Sugawara blinks at him in surprise, synapses taking a while to fire as he tries keeping up with his…not-lie.

“Uhm.”

“White day is coming up you know! We should go on a double date!”

“Aah,” Suga replies and presses the button to call another server to their table as a way to stall for time to…to not-lie, again. “Oh, y’know. We—uh, we’re still fresh. Playing it slow. Not really one for all that sappy greeting card holiday stuff.”

“But he gave you Valentine’s chocolates?” Noya asks with a curious tilt of his head. It’s an innocent enough question, not a hint of suspicion in his tone. Bless his dull-witted soul.

“That! That was just—” Sugawara says too loudly and catches himself before he gives too much away. The server comes by and the three of them order another round of drinks, and Suga thinks he’s in the clear. But unsurprisingly, Nishinoya flings right back into the conversation; curiosity piqued beyond reconciliation.

“Is that how he asked you to spend the night with him?” he gasps dramatically. “You gave yourself up for chocolate?! Suga _wara!_ ”

Sugawara snorts now, once again finding humor in an otherwise humorless situation. “Well, I’ve done worse.” It’s definitely a lie this time, but he simply shrugs, to which Noya and Asahi across the table stare with tickled and scandalized expressions respectively.

He’s ashamed to admit it, but the first die has been cast, and Sugawara Koushi spends the rest of the night making up mindless details about a relationship that merely exists in his (wet) dreams.

\----

The soft flakes of snow flurrying outside the station’s windows look like cotton balls. They cascade downward in random trajectory and Daichi can practically hear a quiet, sweet song play in his head, giving the scene an otherwise cartoony, though picturesque, essence.

“—which is something I’m _totally_ willing to do, but Kenma just doesn’t seem into it. Y’know what I mean?” Kuroo’s voice pulls him from his odd reverie just in time to hear the tail end of this week’s drama. If one could call it that. The ‘drama’ in a lover’s paradise seems a whole lot more exciting than, well, _anything_ in the sad, boring life of a single 27 year old living above a dank karaoke bar. He’d trade anything not to have to listen to another sad ballad sung by Office Worker B at all odd hours.

“I think it’s important to respect each other’s preferences,” Daichi replies with such ease it’s almost impossible to tell he’d been spacing out. ‘Almost’ being the key phrase there.

Kuroo frowns with a soft pout, leaning back on his chair with his hands hooked behind his head. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me. But that’s not really what I asked you, my dude.” His frown quickly leaves as soon as it appears, replaced by his all-knowing and somewhat sleepy grin that seemingly acts as his default expression. It’s what gets him into so much trouble on the job; every citizen assumes he’s being snotty. “You’ve been kind of spacey lately, Dai. Are you alright?”

Daichi isn’t necessarily stunned by his annoyingly perceptive partner’s observation, but his expression slackens in surprise nonetheless. His eyes widen a bit and after a pragnant pause, he lets out an airy laugh. “Just some things on my mind, I guess,” he admits as he leans back in his own chair, arms folding across his broad chest. His nametag digs into his arm but he doesn’t have the energy to care. “I dunno. Personal crap.”

“Well, that’s new,” Kuroo replies with a hint of teasing in his tone. “Usually I’m the one with personal issues.” After another beat, he straightens up, slapping his hands on his thighs and leans forward, making grunting noises unbefitting of a youthful lad his age. “Alright, lay it on me, partner. I’m all ears.”

“W-what?”

“Don’t, no no,” Kuroo lifts a finger and tuts. “None of that. No deflecting with those cute puppy dog eyes. Today is beyond boring and no one else is in except for us and the nice phone lady—”

“Her name is Sato Kaori—”

“So, please, _please_ , save me from myself and let me console my doleful bro.”

“Where did you learn a word like ‘doeful’?” Daichi grins and it only widens when Kuroo flicks him a loving middle finger.

“Fine, if you don’t want my expert help, then you don’t deserve it,” he makes an angry face and turns away so very slowly that it’s quite evident he’s waiting for Daichi to stop him, which of course he does.

Daichi lets out a sheepish laugh, reaching forward with a placating gesture and rolls his eyes. “Alright, okay. But you have to promise me you won’t be judgmental.”

Kuroo raises his eyebrows curiously and leans forward on his desk across from Daichi’s, hands folding like some sort of mob boss. “I am never.”

“So,” Daichi slowly starts with a distrusting expression. “You remember that night I got stuck on the elementary school roof a few weeks ago?”

“Valentine’s Day?” Kuroo blinks, obviously surprised at the direction the conversation takes. “What about it?”

“You remember there was that teacher—”

“Oh yeah. He had a cute mole near his eye. What a minx,” Kuroo muses but then quickly adds with a snap and point of his finger toward Daichi. “Don’t tell Kenma I said that.”

“You know you’re allowed to _look_ at other humans when you’re dating someone, right? And I’m pretty sure Kenma doesn’t care about that sort of stuff.” Daichi quirks an eyebrow and gives his friend a pointed look. Of course, his advice is sound but Kuroo is in advisor mode and quickly brushes it off with a physical wave of his hand.

“So, what _about_ him?”

“Well, we were up on the roof for quite a bit since you came from the town over,” Daichi says slowly, uncertain of exactly what it is he’s trying to say now. The feelings that’ve been swirling around in his heart and head since that day have been thoroughly confusing; giving voice to them now is just as strange. “And he _is_ cute. Very cute. Sexy. I was so surprised when I opened that door to the roof that I instantly forgot protocol—I thought I’d died and he was some sort of angel.”

Kuroo lowers his head, sly grin back on his features, and he rests his chin atop his hands as he listens. “Well, that explains how you goofed and locked yourself up there as well,” he comments with a snicker.

“Anyway,” Daichi glares. “After you left, I sort of…gave him those Valentine’s chocolates.”

“The ones you bought on sale at Lawson earlier in your shift?” Kuroo looks interested now, if he wasn’t already entirely invested, and his smile grows even wider. “How tacky.”

“That’s not the _point_ , Kuroo,” Daichi sighs, agitation beginning to grow, but he knows he’s deflecting anger where it’s undeserved. As soon as he had driven out of that parking lot, glancing in the rearview mirror at the 2nd grade teacher named Sugawara Koushi standing near the entrance of the school, he knew he’d made a terrible, horrible mistake. And that mistake had not been giving the chocolates.

It had been completely forgetting to ask for his phone number.

He groans a little now, emotions he’d been keeping bottled up for weeks finally spilling over, and he falls forward, pressing his forehead onto his desk with a dull _thunk._ “I’m an idiot.”

“What?” He feels Kuroo push his shoulder a bit, but he doesn’t lift his head out of pure stubbornness. “What are you talking about? Giving chocolates on Valentine’s is, like, normal dude. And I’m sure sparkly eyes was happy to receive them—y’know, after having been stuck on a roof all night on one of the most romantic nights of the year.”

There’s silence between them for a while, only filled with the idle clicking of Kaori typing at her keyboard near the front room. Eventually, Daichi relents and lifts his head once more to look his friend in his perpetually bored-looking eyes. “I think I have a crush,” he says plainly. His arms fall to his sides like limp noodles.

“That’s pretty damn obvious,” Kuroo grins again and reaches over once more to give Daichi a solid pat on the shoulder. He leaves his hand there a moment, squeezing fondly in a heartbeat rhythm. “Heh. It’s like we’re in high school all over again. Alright then. When are you asking him out?”

Daichi’s throat tightens and the long, heavy silence between them is more than enough subtext for Kuroo to read. He sighs exasperatedly, leaning back again and lifting his arms above his head like he’s cursing the wind “Oh, my poor, sweet, dull child. You didn’t even get his contact info did you?!”

“Shut up!” Daichi’s face explodes with heat and it’s all he can do to pretend it’s not fading into all sorts of red. As an act of defiance, he quickly glances around his desk for a weapon, settling on a stack of lime green post-it notes and throwing them directly at Kuroo’s defenseless chest. “It would’ve been inappropriate!”

“Ow!” Kuroo flinches and hisses in pain, dropping his palms to his chest like some sort of heart-struck maiden. “That hit my nipple, asshole.”

Daichi flares his nostrils, holding his ground despite his nipple foul. He turns away, flustered and embarrassed and feeling really rather childish. He’s usually the mature one, the one that people point two when they ask who’s older despite them being the same age; barely a month apart. And yet, with just a simple conversation, Daichi is reduced to toddler-like behavior because he can’t own up to his rookie mistake. Can you blame him though? What are the odds someone _that_ stunning is single?

Then again, Sugawara Koushi hadn’t exactly been lamenting over the loss of his Valentine’s plans either when they were up shivering on that roof together.

Daichi remembers how his pale skin turned pink in the chilled air, and how nice his smile looked when Daichi offered him his jacket. Daichi blushes deeper now, remembering how he shamefully sniffed the inner collar once he was way out of range of the school. It smelled different, nice, and he’s certain it smelled like _him._

Oh, boy. He’s in deep. Embarrassingly so.

“Ok, ok,” Kuroo’s voice pulls him back once again from his second and probably not last reverie. “We can handle this. A minor setback. You know his full name right? You got that much in your report—so all we have to do is just _boop boop boop_ ,” he lifts his hands, pointer fingers pantomiming typing into their system.

Daichi widens his eyes and whips his head in his partner’s direction. “ _Absolutely not._ ”

“Why not?” Kuroo drawls and Daichi is a fool for even remotely considering himself the childish one. It’d been a moment of weakness, surely.

He gives him a pointed look, eyes sharp with resolve that shuts Kuroo up almost instantly. His carefree smile returns after a moment all the same. He lifts his hands, palms out in surrender. “Alright, fine. Have it your way. But don’t come crying to me when you spend yet another romantic holiday alone with discounted chocolates. Unless you give them out to yet another perky sensei, then you’d just be alone with your thoughts. Which I don’t recommend at _all_.”

Daichi merely clicks his tongue, frustrated but not angry with his obtuse friend. Kuroo has a knack for making things sound so incredibly, dull-wittedly easy that Daichi has to spend half his time fighting the urge to simply agree and go along with it. But he knows better. Things like love—they take time. Surely a chance meeting atop of a school roof isn’t enough to warrant romantic advances. That’s just… _presumptuous_. Daichi isn’t that type of guy. He isn’t. He won’t let mere attraction and loneliness blend into a dangerous mix in his heart. He won't let the fact that he lies awake at night thinking over-dramatically about what never was.

Ignoring the pang in his chest, he turns back to his computer and finishes filling out some reports and paperwork on routine traffic stops he’s done this month. That bright, toothy grin that touches those striking winter eyes won’t leave his mind’s eye. And that fact alone is more than enough proof that Sawamura Daichi is already fighting a losing battle.

\----

Sugawara Koushi is an absolute madman. He thinks so himself as he stands outside of the police station with the aurora plastic wrapped cookies, half burnt, in his gloved hands. What on earth possessed him to think this is a good idea?

Noya, that’s what.

Or who.

Whatever.

He sighs dejectedly and fights the urge to turn on his heels and sprint until he meets the horizon. But he perseveres. He can’t return to his apartment with these damn cookies still in his hands, that much is certain. His extensive lie—yes, he admits it—has pushed him into this predicament and he now has to suffer the consequences.

Of course, he could merely toss the cookies and _say_ he delivered them. But the story would just continue to muddy and pretty soon he’d be caught up in his own web. No, this way was better. He can awkwardly go into the station which one Sawamura Daichi works. Noya had Asahi find it with almost suspiciously quick ease. Sugawara thought he’d been ingenious saying that if he “texted” to ask him the location, then he’d “know he was up to something.” A foolproof way to get rid of Nishinoya’s crazy idea of returning the sweet favor on White Day. Alas, he has no such luck.

Once inside, he can hand over the badly baked goods, apologize for the awkwardness, and make his merry way home.

_Bing bam boom._

Sure, as if anything were ever that easy in Suga’s life.

He steels himself however. He straightens his back and walks with his shoulders back and chin high, pushing the glass doors open. The woman at the front desk looks up with a smile. It’s hidden behind her surgical mask, but nevertheless her squinty eyes show her friendliness.

Sugawara makes his way to her tentatively, holding the cookies behind his back like a secret. He feels increasingly embarrassed but he’s going to pull through. He’s got this. The kind woman looks up at him. “How may I help you?”

And just like that Sugawara’s heart stops and he promptly forgets what muscles he’s supposed to use to speak. He feels hot and like his tongue grows three times its normal size. Opening his mouth and making a few pathetic noises in place of words, Suga slowly begins to regret his previous decision to be resolute.

“I-Is everything alright, sir?” she asks with concern. When she stands up, Sugawara’s voice inside his head screams for him to get a grip. He’s going to make this so much harder than it needs to be.

Luckily (or is it?), just as he’s about to pass out from the sudden onslaught of nerves, the door toward one of the back rooms opens. The lanky officer with unforgettable obsidian hair steps through with a few papers in his hand. “Kaori, do you think you could fax these to— _Hello!_ ” he cuts himself off, standing in the front room while the door slowly shuts behind him.

Suga doesn’t even have time to process what’s happened before the officer heads straight for him, a sort of mischievous grin—of all things— on his features. Sugawara has half the thought that an officer of the law should look a bit more inviting. Regardless, the long strides he takes make quick work of the space between them and pretty soon he’s towering over Suga in front of the reception desk.

“Sugawara-sensei!” he says brightly, arms out to his sides as if wanting a hug from an old pal. He gets no such thing from Suga who takes a wary step backward. The officer doesn’t seem the least bit put off by this and tosses the papers onto the counter top. “Oh, happy day!”

“I beg your pardon? Have we, uh, met?” Sugawra says this despite the image of that cold, embarrassing night playing sparkling clear in his mind’s eye. He could never forget a sly grin such as that.

“Never mind me,” he replies. “This is perfect. Just when he’d given up, too. I could see it in his beautiful, sad eyes.”

“I-I’m not sure I follow you, officer…” Suga stays polite for the time being; his nerves all but forgotten with this sudden, excitable outburst.

“I’m gonna need you to stay right there. Ok?” He lifts his hands, making a frame with his fingers and squinting one eye closed as he looks Suga up and down.

Sugawara’s expression tightens, brows lowering with confusion if not a bit of frustration. But before he has much time to consolidate which emotion he wants to go with, the officer turns quickly and jogs back to the door he’d just come from. He whips it open and sprints down the hallway. Suga watches him run until the door shuts softly once again, bringing silence to the storm that had just blown through. He slowly turns toward the receptionist who is retrieving the forgotten paperwork on the counter and slipping it behind the desk neatly into a file.

“I—what was that?” Suga finds the words leaving him in a breath.

The receptionist smiles with her eyes again. “I never know what goes on in his funny little head,” she says simply and with finality that raises the hair on Sugawara’s arms. “Now. What can I help you with?”

“Uh,” Sugawara forgot what he came here for. But he soon is reminded when the crinkle of the cellophane wrap reaches his ears. He shifts the cookies out from behind his back, glancing down at them as he eyes the way the aurora wrapping catches the florescent lights. “I want to drop something off for someone. I’m looking for, uhm, officer…Sawamura?” The name catches in his throat and he swallows dryly, suddenly very aware of his own limbs and confused as to why they’re _there_ in the first place and why do they have to be so _limb-y._

The receptionist lifts her eyebrows in surprise, but before she has a chance to inquire the nature of the visit, the door opens once again with a lot more fervor than last time. It slams against the wall, clanging obnoxiously in the quiet of the front room in a way that is entirely unfitting for a police station with potentially _fragile_ occupants!

Suga’s attention is ripped from the desk, head darting to the right. His breath pulls from him painfully and without so much as a second thought he lets out the tiniest, absolutely uncool, mousey, “Oh.”

Daichi Sawamura, once again, stands in a doorway with his hand lingering on the door, propping it open. He’s everything Sugawara remembers and more; and it’s almost painful to realize this fact now. His uniform is neatly ironed, puled taught across his chest. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, forearms exposed with an intricate looking watch fastened on his left wrist. His shoulders rise and fall with a heavy breath, as if he’d just ran—which, judging by the soft pink of his cheeks, is entirely plausible. His lips part softly, coffee eyes bright and wide as he stares dumbly across the room at Sugawara.

“It’s you,” he says through a breath, and his voice carries across the room lighter than any music Suga has ever heard but sinks harder than an anvil in his gut.

“I,” Sugawara starts but finds that whatever it is that he’d prepared over and over in his head on the drive over has all but vanished from his mind. He swallows again, licks his lips, and starts again. “These are cookies!”

Excellent. Wonderful. Very natural.

Without much else left to do, he juts the cookies forward, offering them like a sample to a god.

Sawamura blinks in shock and the tall officer slinks up behind his statuesque figure. Sugawara doesn’t see it, but suddenly Sawamura flails forward, stumbling a bit to catch himself not to fall directly into Sugawara. He shoots a glare over his shoulder at his partner, cheeks flaring red.

Observing with wide eyes, Suga holds the cookies out, frozen in his pose. Sawamura straightens up; lifting his head quickly and their gazes lock together for the first time. They’re both still and silent, the soft noises of Ms. Sato shifting paper work sound are amplified within that quiet.

“Cookies,” Sawamura says as he lifts his eyebrows and gives Suga a lopsided smile that’s so unbelievably adorable and dorky that he almost melts right then and there. “I like cookies.”

“Good, that’s good!” Sugawara knows he’s speaking way too loudly and his muscles ache with how tense he is holding himself. Before this whole disaster movie can take place, he quickly shoves the cookies into his hands. Panic is slowly seeping back into every fiber of his being and it’s a bit too much for him to handle. He shouldn’t be here. This is ridiculous. People don’t _do_ this. “Happy White Day!” he blurts quickly, stumbling over his words as he quickly removes his gaze from Sawamura’s. Within seconds, but still not quickly enough, he turns on his heel and quite literally runs out of the police station. _Runs_. He’s 27 years old and just handed over homemade, burnt cookies to an indescribably handsome police officer, and now he’s _running_ _away_.

He hears Sawamura call out something behind him, but it’s cut off by the door and he sprints as fast as his legs can carry him. When he makes it to his car, his chest is on fire and lungs gulp for air in long heavy pulls. He stands just outside of his car, staring at his panting reflection in the window for a few solid moments before he shakes his head in absolute disappointment and disgust. He scoffs angrily to himself, ignoring the intense heat on his ears, unlocks his car and gets in. He slams the door shut and when he’s in the sanctity of his own car, he yells out in frustration only once, smacking his hand against the steering wheel before turning his car on and peeling out of the station parking lot. _Never again_ , he thinks pitifully. _I'm never doing that again._

Back in the station, Daichi stands wide eyed with the prettily packaged cookies in his hands. His empty gaze stares at the front doors of the station; mind unable to decide if that really just happened or not.

“Well then,” Kuroo says with a succinct clap of his hands. It surprises Daichi and he jolts a little, blinking over at his partner. “At least we know he’s just as painfully awkward as you are, Dai. A match made in heaven!”

Behind her desk, Kaori lets out a quiet laugh but she quickly hides behind her pile of work when Daichi turns to give her a look.

"Who knows! Maybe he'll be back?" Kuroo says with a playful grin which earns him an amused glare from his partner. He shrugs it off, putting his hands in his pockets in yet another unfitting display as an officer of the law. 

Daichi sighs, glancing back at the doors and when it's very, painfully obvious Sugawara is not going to jump right back through them yelling _Psyche!_ , he smiles softly in amusement.

"You look happy, all things considered," Kuroo comments as they walk toward the back area once again.

"Well, I got a White Day present," Daichi says defensively, his ears starting to warm. He looks down at the sweets and smiles again at how dark some of the edges and backs are. "That means he likes me, right?" he mumbles.

“Can I have some of those?” Kuroo doesn't hear his question, or simply chooses not to grace it with an answer, and holds the door open for Daichi who cradles the cookies in his hands protectively.

“Touch one and you die.”

\----

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Sugawara presses the accelerator down even further. His car crawls up closely behind a slower than all get-out _kei_ truck, and without so much as a second glance into his blind spot, he passes it. He peers down at his speedometer and chews on his lip.

He is so incredibly beyond late and today is the opening ceremony for the new school year. Of all days to have his phone die in the middle of the night, it _had_ to be this one. If it were any other day, he could just let his little ones wait for him to arrive. But on a day where a ceremony is taking place, there’s just so much that needs to go _right_ that being late ultimately makes everything _wrong._

“I’m dead,” he mumbles to himself when he imagines the harsh scolding he’s absolutely going to receive from the principal. He winces just thinking about it. The guy has a harsh tongue, and when things don’t go (unrealistically) according to plan, well let’s just say the children’s whispers of _oni_ aren’t really too far off.

Curving around a bend, his car drifts off way into the other lane; dangerously so. But he doesn’t slow down. He needs to get to school before the first chime. At least, give him that. He looks up for a moment, up through the windshield at the blue, cloudless sky. If there is anyone up there rooting for him, then please—

The flashing red lights in his rearview mirror are like a slap in the face and a dunk into a bone chilling vat of water. His eyes widen and he groans pitifully when the clear vision of a police car right up behind reflects back at him. He pulls off the main road, into a short side road that winds alongside a wide rice field. The police car follows slowly and pulls up behind him, red lights still flashing rhythmically.

Sugawara sighs, leaning over and opening his glove box as he searching for his insurance card. He mumbles a series of curses—one for his phone, one for his school, one for his awful luck. He reaches over into his work bag; a small grey one that slings over his shoulder and across the front of his chest. He unzips it to grab his wallet and the whole thing falls down to the floor of the passenger’s side.

“Really?!” he groans again, clicking his tongue in frustration as he leans over all the way now. "I'm fired. I'm so fired. They're transferring me out of this school and sending me to jail." He strains, reaching as far as he can to get his wallet that had of course decided to bounce the literal farthest point from him.

Outside the car, the officer comes up to the window, adjusting his sunglasses atop of his head and preparing his long since memorized spiel. He quirks an eyebrow when he looks into the driver’s seat and sees the driver completely folded over, reaching deep underneath the dash on the passenger’s side. His shirt is ridden up with the effort, pale skin taught over ribs, a speckling of beauty marks here and there. He peers in and sees the light head of hair bob and weave as the driver searches for what they need. For a short moment, the officer feels a slight panic, face warming.

"Sugawara?" he says just at the same time as--

“Got it!” Sugawara exclaims and he pops back up, holding his prize in hand. He turns toward the window and rolls it down, staring down as he does so and adjusts the insurance paper and license in his hand. “I’m so terribly sorry officer, I’m late for work and—OH my God.”

Daichi Sawamura stares at him through the open window, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. They both are silent for what feels like an eternity; at least long enough for the _kei_ truck that Suga had passed to putt putt its way past them on the main road.

“You were speeding,” Sawamura eventually says , effectively breaking whatever spell had been cast between them. “Uh, and I saw you take a pretty reckless turn around the corner.” He jabs in the vague direction with his thumb.

Sugawara is beyond words. His head is empty and he’s absolutely uncertain what his first name is anymore. He looks down at his license. Right, Koushi.

He looks up again when Sawamura clears his throat. He blinks owlishly, face slack, as he watches the officer shift his stance and put his hands on his hips.

“Have you had any traffic violations before, Sensei?” Sawamura asks, his own expression a bit unreadable but obvious nerves are written in the crease between his thick, perfect eyebrows.

“Uh,” Suga says eloquently. He shakes his head, screaming at himself internally to get a grip. His heart thuds in his chest and he’s high off adrenaline that doesn’t seem to want to go away. He hands over his information, hands a bit shaky. “No, I…no. Well, there was this one time—”

When their hands touch when Suga passes over his cards, both of them freeze and stare wide eyed at each other. Another _kei_ car crawls its way past them on the main road and somewhere in the distance a crow calls bitterly.

At this rate, this could potentially be the longest traffic stop in world history.

Luckily though, the bubble bursts and Sawamura chuckles a little as he takes the cards in his hands and takes out his notepad. “It’s nice to see you again,” he says gently, and his voice is so warm and comforting. “Thanks for the cookies! They were gone in like an hour. I don't suppose you'd be willing to make another batch sometime?”

Suga feels himself flush from head to toe, ears burning hot at the tragic memory that he had willed himself to forget (but not really, how could he?) He swallows heavily and laughs a little, looking down at Sawamura’s black boots. “Th-that so? Good. I’m not really much of a baker but uh…” He doesn't know where to begin with any of this. So trailing off into silence is what he goes with. Not the best tactic by any means.

“I’ll be right back,” Sawamura says now and makes his way back to his squad car.

Suga watches him leave and just as he out of his peripheral, he turns forward, hands coming to his steering wheel and gripping it tightly. His chest hurts and his face feels so hot he refuses to look at himself in the mirror in fear of seeing a tomato. “What the hell…” he says through a sigh. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears. But all things considered, the one thing that’s got him most on edge is just how incredibly, horrifically, _happy_ he’d been the instant his eyes met Sawamura Daichi’s again. As embarrassing as the cookie fiasco had been, Sugawara (unsurprisingly) could not get him out of his head.

He supposes it isn’t too far-fetched; running into a cop in a small town like this. Suga lives in the town over, and it’s slightly bigger than this one, so he just didn’t really consider the chances of running into him. Well, being pulled over by him—but details, details.

Before he has time to psychoanalyze himself or question whether the powers that be are _for_ or _against_ him, Sawamura returns to the driver’s side of his car. Sugawara swallows and holds his breath.

“Well, this isn’t your first time by any means,” Sawamura grins with the new-found knowledge he’d obviously obtained back in his squad car's laptop. Sugawara had been purposefully vague before, knowing full-well his driving record isn’t the cleanest by any means. “And giving you an offense now would put you at the 8 point range.”

Suga frowns and his stomach sinks. “I-I can’t get my license suspended again! There isn’t a reliable bus between my town and this one. Please, I—” He stops mid-sentence when Sawamura lifts his hand, palm facing him placatingly. He hands over his cards and Suga takes them silently; lips thinned into a tight line.

“I won’t give you a ticket,” he says and he smiles wider when Sugawara practically deflates with a relieved sigh. “But I will give you this.” He lifts his hand now, pinching a piece of paper between his first and middle finger.

Sugawara stares at it blankly, blinking for a few moments. He watches Sawamura lean over now, gripping the top of the car and peering into the window. At this range, he can smell him—a soft hint of coffee and lingering soap that he can't quite guess the scent. Sugawara can’t help but let his gaze drop a little, down to his collar bone where his shirt dips and he can see the seams of his black undershirt.

“Three times and no progress is pretty boring, don’t you think?” Sawamura says and suddenly leans forward just as Sugawara looks up again, blushing at how dumbly he’d been staring down the _police officer’s_ shirt.

The timing is perfect, however, and just as he looks up, Sawamura’s soft, warm lips press against his. Fireworks explode in his head and his breath stills and he’s relatively certain he can taste colors right about now. Suga’s eyes are wide, staring blankly ahead at Sawamura’s closed ones; dark lashes like obsidian crescent moons against his cheekbones. The kiss is fleeting and chaste, and Suga finds himself trailing after those soft lips when they pull away. He's cold now, instantly, and his mouth twitches instinctively.

“S-sorry,” Sawamura mutters after a too long pause, his face turning pink. His brown eyes avoid Suga’s and he clears his throat again as he straightens up, chest puffed. “Just, uh, take it.” He suddenly hands over the slip of paper, closing Sugawara’s hand over it and squeezing his fist for a short moment before pulling back quickly, as if electrified. “Ok, bye.”

And like that, he walks away leaving Sugawara wide eyed and silent; nerves buzzing through him like an endless current.

After a moment or two, Suga unfurls his fist and looks down at the white slip of paper in his hand. It’s crinkled now but the numbers written in rather nice handwriting are undeniable. A sudden chill flutters up his spine and his mouth makes squiggly shapes trying to contain his giddy smile. They still tingle and spark from where Sawamura’s had touched them just moments before. Giving into his ambitions, Suga tightens the paper in his fist once again and hoots loudly in celebration. He reaches forward, gripping the steering wheel and shakes his body back and forth—as if he’s a toddler again needing to get all his static energy out in one burst.

Suga holds the paper to his chest again, finally giving in and smiling like an idiot. He presses his forehead against the steering wheel and screams with glee. But then suddenly, he looks up in horror. He hears the crunch of asphalt under rubber wheels slowly pull up beside his car.

Suga’s eyes widen and he lifts his head from the steering wheel and slowly turns to look out his passenger window. Daichi pulls up in his squad car, sunglasses over his eyes once more; that same, now somewhat familiarly lopsided smile on his lips. The lips that kissed Suga. The lips Suga would very much like to kiss again.

“Drive safe, Sensei,” he says with a smirk before he drives off, turning back on to the main road.

Sugawara’s reaction is delayed, but the amount of heat that explodes on his face is almost unbelievable. He hunches his shoulders up to his ears, entire body tensing with embarrassment. “That jerk,” he mumbles before he puts his things away and quickly remembers he’s driving toward his death at the school. “He gets all confident when he’s able to escape like that. We'll see how cocky he is when he can't conveniently drive away in his fancy squad car.”

As Suga drives a lot more carefully and legally this time, he can’t help but agree with what Sawamura had said before kissing him. Their first meeting had been a chance encounter, the second a bust, and third…well, who was he to fight fate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!  
> I love them so much and I love the idea of none of the haikyuu boys ever knowing what they're doing, even IF they're grown-ass adults.
> 
> I like this little universe I've created, so I think I'm gonna write more! (ok, you caught me...i just wanna write porn of it BUT CAN YA BLAME ME??)
> 
> Anyway, I hope the incoming spring brings you all flowers and sunshine!!


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